by Gabe Lacques, USA TODAY Sports

by Gabe Lacques, USA TODAY Sports

Mariano Rivera, who did not redefine the closer position so much as he put a dominant, inimitable stamp on it, announced Saturday he will retire after the season, his 19th with the New York Yankees.

Rivera, 43, will pitch one more year after tearing the anterior cruciate ligament in his right knee in May, in the midst of what many expected would be his final season.

Determined to exit the game on his own terms, Rivera vowed a comeback for 2013, and upon arriving at spring training last month said he'd made a decision on his future beyond this year, but would not reveal it.

Saturday morning at the Yankees' spring-training complex, flanked by his wife Clara and two sons while club officials and the entire Yankees team looked on, Rivera finally confirmed the game's worst-kept secret.

"It is not too easy to come to a decision like this," Rivera said, "retiring from the game that love. I did what I loved. I did it with passion. It has been an honor to wear the pinstripe uniform."

Later Saturday, Rivera was scheduled to appear in his first exhibition game this spring, another key progression as he ramps up toward his final season.

When it concludes, so too will the career of a player who transcended the specialist tag often applied to relief pitchers.

And in a sport that for time eternal has thrived on debate -- Mantle or Mays? Gibson or Koufax? Cabrera or Trout? -- there is virtually no dissent on the frequent occasions Rivera is mentioned as the greatest at his craft.

"He is irreplaceable," Yankees general manager Brian Cashman said. "You will never see that again. He is the greatest of all time."

For reasons both tangible and intangible.

Rivera is baseball's all-time saves leader, with 608, and the closest active player on the list is Texas Rangers closer Joe Nathan, 37, who has 298.

"I don't feel I'm the greatest of all time," Rivera said. "I want to be remembered as a player who was there for others, made others better."

His 42 playoff saves -- matching his uniform number -- also are a record, and 23 came during the five postseasons that culminated in a Yankees World Series championship. What's more, he pitched more than one inning in 31 of those 42 saves, further enabling his Yankee managers to shorten a game.

"There is only one Mariano Rivera," says Jorge Posada, who caught Rivera from 1996-2011. "There won't be another person who will come along and do what he did. No one does it like him."

His other career statistics -- such as a 2.21 ERA, a strikeout/walk ratio of 4.04 to 1 and 1,119 strikeouts -- are certainly impressive. But the fact he allowed less than a baserunner per inning perhaps best illustrates his dominance.

Rivera's cut fastball -- often the only pitch he would throw to a batter -- befuddled batters. If they didn't strike out, a weak ground ball would often result, perhaps accompanied by a shattered bat. The chances of a leadoff walk or a fluke hit that are the fuel for ninth-inning rallies -- and the enemy of closers -- were greatly diminished when Rivera pitched.

For all Rivera's postsason success, three Yankee playoff runs were ended when he could not nail down a save. The 1997 season, Rivera's first as a closer, ended in the Division Series, when Rivera gave up a home run to the Cleveland Indians' Sandy Alomar in the eighth inning of Game 4.

The 2001 World Series famously ended when Rivera gave up two runs in the bottom of the ninth of Game 7, the game-winner coming on a Luis Gonzalez bloop hit over a drawn-in infield.

And Rivera was complicit in the greatest collapse in postseason history, blowing two saves when the Boston Red Sox overcame a 3-0 deficit to win the final four games of the 2004 AL Championship Series.

But great closers are defined by their ability to move on from failure. Rivera's placid demeanor and easy way made him well-suited to this task.

The April following the Yankees' 2004 ALCS meltdown, Rivera blew two more saves to the Boston Red Sox in an opening-week series at Yankee Stadium.

The following week, the Red Sox hosted the Yankees for their home opener at Fenway Park, and every other Yankee was booed during introductions.

The Red Sox crowd, sensing a chance to mess with the regal reliever, derisively cheered when Rivera was introduced.

He laughed, and doffed his cap. Later, he said, "I didn't know they loved me so much here. It was nice. I had to laugh."

The Yankees would not win another World Series until 2009, when Rivera saved five of their 11 postseason wins. He has remained dominant into the twilight of his career, saving 44 games in 2011, when he was 41.

Then came last year's torn knee ligament, suffered while shagging balls in batting practice.

By then, Rivera had not publicly stated 2012 was his final year.

He had, however, informed Cashman, Girardi and a handful of teammates that it would be his final season. Then came the knee injury, a brief thought that he may retire because of it, and then a renewed resolve to return in 2013.

He had informed Cashman and Girardi shortly after arriving for spring training that he was good for one more year. He waited until Saturday to publicize it, he told the dozens of media members gathered for his press conference, "because I wanted you to hear it from me."

Rivera also said he would stay retired, ribbing teammate Andy Pettitte -- "Andy, man, what's wrong with you?" -- for coming out of retirement to pitch.

Not so for Rivera. He still loves the game, he said, the competition, and the evolving relationships with teammates.

The hotel rooms, long flights, and months away from his three sons and Clara? That he can do without.

"I have just a few bullets left," he said. "I am going to use them well."

"Now is the time. There is nothing left. It has been a journey. I will never stop missing the game, the action, teammates."

The feeling is certainly mutual. Rivera was relaxed, joking, jovial at times during his 25-minute news conference. Seated to his right were Pettitte and shortstop Derek Jeter, who along with catcher Jorge Posada were the glue of the Yankees' modern dynasty.

To their right: The remainder of the Yankee roster, dressed for a morning workout and appearing far more emotional than Rivera.

"There's no doubt it's going to be sad," Pettitte said. "If you're a New York Yankee fan, he's gone out there an awful lot of times and made it look so easy. It's gonna be hard to replace that, but he feels good about it. And the time is right.

"He's meant an awful lot to me. We've pushed each other. He's always been there for me."

***

One-of-a-kind career

Hall of Fame slugger Ted Williams once said his lifetime goal was to have people say, "There goes Ted Williams, the greatest hitter who ever lived."

Rivera never made such a self-proclamation. Regardless of how his final year plays out, his body of work makes that case on his behalf. He'll have one more year to burnish an unprecedented resume, one wish for his final act.

"The last game, I hope, will be throwing the last pitch of the World Series," he said.

Still, Rivera created the impression he will have few, if any regrets. Girardi intimated that it will be difficult for Rivera once he begins his farewell tour, and realizes he'll be visiting certain stadiums and seeing longtime acquaintances for the final time as a player.

Rivera struck a different tone. Once a skinny starting pitcher whose ceiling was limited because of his inability to develop additional pitches, Rivera instead took one pitch -- that devastating cutter -- to craft a one-of-a-kind career.

Little wonder, then, he anticipates a joyous victory lap.

"It's celebrating, it's not sadness," Rivera said. "There is no sadness. The gift of baseball will continue.